


Where is the line?

by Aguna91



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Dick is confused and Slade takes advantage of it, Gen, canonish, no slash or smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aguna91/pseuds/Aguna91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  “If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind?” Officer Richard Grayson killed someone in self defence and speaks with Slade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where is the line?

Disclaimer: not mine

Summary: “If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind?” Officer Richard Grayson killed someone in self defence and speaks with Slade.

-notes: yes I got the idea while working on the update for a soldiers view^^

–

Officer Grayson sat in a sterile white room with a table and two chairs facing each other on either side. A big mirror went along the left side and from previous experience he knew that the furniture was screwed to the floor and the mirror was a one-way mirror, allowing others to look into the room but the occupants not see their observers.   
The young adult had been often in a room such at this, only on the other side of the table or the mirror. A small yet significant difference, because the place he occupied was for the criminal...

His eyes are looking nowhere. His mind is focused on the constant inhaling and exhaling while an almost pleasantly numbness fills him. It is a pretty simple trick, tell yourself not to think about a red elephant and you will automatically image the creature, what you really need to do is to think about something mundane. Picture how the air fills your lungs, the oxygen gets separated and becomes a part of you bloodstream. Which routes it takes inside your body. How it sprayed like a fountain from the wounded body... 

Dick starts to tremble and bites his tongue to keep the screams unvoiced. Blood floods from the wound, the metallic taste of it fills his mouth, nearly chocking him and making everything worse by adding the sensation of taste. He swallows, wanting the taste to disappear, unsuccessful.

He killed, his body shakes with suppressed sobs, he didn't know what else to do. A wail passes his lips, he would be dead now if he hadn't done so, his name is Richard Grayson and killed someone to save his own life, how could he have been so selfish?

–

The door opens and two policemen enter the room one offers him a plastic cup with water. Taking a sip he relaxes slightly as the taste of blood weakens on his tongue. His two companions are silent, awaiting something or someone. Everything is blurred, feels unreal, he killed but there is no way that he killed someone is there? His head hurts...

“Would you like to call someone?”, offers a fourth person, an elderly woman with a kind smile, when did she enter? Still hazy he looks at the mobile-phone, whom should he call? Bruce, his guardian, is his first thought and instantly dismissed. The man had taken him in to gain stability and once he left he had searched for another source. Nothing personal, he thinks grimly. The man has his needs and he is supposed to understand and forgive everything with a smile. Naturally they didn't say it like this, but the message got across. It isn’t like he should complain is it? Surly there are worse ways to life for a born actor than to play the always smiling son for an unstable billionaire.  
“This won't be necessary”, declares one if his guards suddenly. He flinches slightly at the harsh tone and looks and looks towards the speaker in confusion,“ a professional is informed and should be here shortly”  
A professional? A psychiatrist? Specialized on cops? He isn't sure, yet the stony look on the policeman’s face gives nothing away. The woman leaves and more time passes while he waits with his silent companions.

 

\---  
“Thank you, I will handle the situation from here on”, says an all too familiar voice outside the room which his mind refuses to recognize, this can't be.

Yet the door opens and Slade enters. The clothing is expensive but not skin-tight like his costume. For some reason the man looks even more intimidating in it. Maybe because he can't see the muscle movement? Or all the space to hide weapons? 

The cops leave and he is left alone with the other man. He feels the single eye studying him and avoids to look up, refuses still while Slade moves towards him.

“If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind?” The question is clam yet it sparks an inferno in him. He is on his feet, his hand moves on its own volition to strike, only to be captured in a strong grip. Powerless he lets the older man pull him close and buries his tear streaked face in Slade's chest. This isn’t fair, Dick thinks desperately, of all the time he had to make sense...

“If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind?”This time the question is a soft purr and the other hands starts to gently stroke his back. “Would you blame them for saving their life? Would they blame you for saving you own?”

His answer is drowned in his sobs, but Slade smiles, feeling the movement of the younger man's head on his chest...


End file.
